desert sky opening a purgatory of rain . . .
A mystery: Who to blame for the man buried up to his neck in the ground, eyelids cut off, head covered in honey to attract stinging fire ants?
I heard Indians were to blame, then, no, Spaniards.
And who was that goddamn man anyway?
cactus bloom fall
the light and darkness
in a stranger’s eyes
About the writer:
Anna Cates is a graduate of Indiana State University (M.A. English and Ph.D. Curriculum & Instruction/English) and National University (M.F.A. Creative Writing). Her first collections of poetry and fiction, The Meaning of Life and The Frog King, were published by Cyberwit Press, and her second poetry collection, The Darkroom, by Prolific Press.She lives in Ohio with her cat Freddie and teaches education and English online, including graduate courses in creative writing.